The Price of Conquest

Terror.

Among the many new feelings Saunorel had experienced since leaving Marasyn, none frightened her more than the sudden unrelenting awareness of her mortality. Ever since her escape from Eminence, she had lived with its constant cold grip on her heart. Now, hidden in a dark, malodorous alley in a city she could only hope was Varen, she tried to still her terror and let her thoughts flow calm and clear. It did not work.

She had run for hours in a vain attempt to lose the troop of Gaunis's soldiers that had followed her since she touched down on Arecia. She had eaten nothing since then, drank little, and she could not locate the temple. Discouraged, exhausted, she huddled deeper into the shadows and used her mind to scan around her for the touch of another th'Maran, but she sensed only the occasional churning chaos of a human consciousness.

She struggled to her feet and crept out of the alley. With a cautious glance in both directions, she dashed across the deserted street and scanned again, questing to the very limit of her range.

The size of the city overwhelmed her. What she had seen of it during the day could support the entire population of Marasyn several times over. She never thought there could be so many humans in one place. She found it difficult to imagine so many humans at all.

But why had they disappeared so suddenly? When she arrived earlier in the day, the city had teemed with boisterous life. Now the streets were empty, and the few human minds she touched echoed only dread and deep concern. Beyond her own terror, Saunorel sensed something had gone horribly wrong in the humans' world.

She turned her thoughts away from the added burden of the humans' troubles and peered around another corner. White uniforms flashed against the dark buildings ahead. Heart pounding, she ducked back around the corner. Her mind swept forward and brushed the familiar consciousnesses of her pursuers. Discouraged, she turned to retrace her route. A shout echoed from behind her, and she broke into a run.

She fled from the sounds of voices and running feet, and poured all of her mental energy into another frantic sweep around her.

This time she sensed the familiar touch of an ordered th'Maran mind. Desperate, she sent a cry for help as the other strove to link his mind to hers.

I am Rafan, sister. The contact came from close by. I feel you…

Light from a pulse gun flashed behind Saunorel, and agony exploded in her left leg. She stumbled and fell, her mind blackened from the pain. The contact with Rafan slipped away. With a gasp, she struggled upright and limped on, trying to ignore the stab of agony each step produced.

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"Stop, th'Maran!" a voice called from behind her. "Stop, or I'll fire again!"

Breathing hard, her mind clouded with pain, she turned to face her pursuer.

A young Patrol soldier, one of Gaunis's men, approached. He held his gun at arm's length, trained on his quarry. His round features beamed with a triumphant grin as he used his free hand to remove a small object from his pocket.

"It's all right," he said, his voice soft despite the mixture of fear and excitement that poured from his mind. "Just come along with me. We won't hurt you."

Saunorel shook her pounding head. Her body trembled from the pain in her leg.

"Please." She took a faltering step toward him. "Please, I…"

The soldier danced back. His finger tightened on the trigger of his gun, and he raised the vial he held. "Don't come any closer."

Saunorel sought his gaze, but he would not meet her eyes.

"Please," she said again.

He started to call out.

"No!" Saunorel put the full force of her weakening will behind the single word.

His aim wavered.

"That's right." Her eyes met his. "You don't want to hurt me, but you know what your people will do if—"

He tore his gaze from hers, brought his gun up, and dashed the vial to the ground at her feet.

Saunorel's mind lanced into his. Without the benefit of calm and rest, the energy behind the link came out harsh, brutal. The young Patrolman staggered back with a cry, and his gun fell from his hands.

Saunorel turned and stumbled through the barely discernible cloud of gas that wafted from the shattered vial. She reached the alley's end just as her pursuers entered behind her.

"Got her here!" one of them called. "She's— Shit! Tizen's down. Spread out. Get in front of her!"

Saunorel staggered on. She was so close. If only she could re-establish contact with Rafan. Surely he must be scanning for her.

She opened her mind to seek him again, but there was nothing there. No awareness. No control. Nothing.

She tried to cry out, but managed only a feeble gasp. Mentally blinded, physically exhausted, she staggered around another corner, straight into a group of humans.

One of them grabbed her by the arm. "Well, look what we have here." He spun her to face him. Dark eyes met hers from beneath a mass of tight black curls.

"Please…" She tried to pull out of his grasp.

The human tightened his grip on her arm. "Don't worry," he said, "we won't hurt you."

We won't hurt you… That was what the other man said, she remembered as her vision blurred and darkness swept in to claim her.